


Love and Support

by Redrikki



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Episode Tag, Families of Choice, Family, Female Friendship, Gen, JediFest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-19 02:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: After Padmé is shot at a conference, her motherinsistsshe come home. Padmé, of course, is going no where. Episode tag to 3.07 "Assassin."





	Love and Support

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avada_matata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avada_matata/gifts).



There was nothing quite so frustrating as enforced bedrest when there was work to be done. Padmé reclined back against her throne of pillows and frowned at her datapad. She had been revising her speech for the conference when she was interrupted by a message from her mother. Somehow, she had heard about the attack and was, as always, overreacting. _I insist you come home,_ she wrote.

Insist? _Insist?!_ Padmé gritted her teeth and tried to quash her rising annoyance. She didn’t have time for this. Yes, she’d been shot and, yes, her assailant was still at large. Neither was reason enough to abandon a conference she’d called. Certainly not when countless refugees were counting on her to save them.

A knock at the door made her look sharply up. She instantly regretted it as the sudden movement sent a bolt of pain through her wounded arm. Bail’s medical droid had offered her a stronger painkiller, but Padmé had refused. She needed to be sharp at a time like this. “Come in,” she called, ready to draw the blaster hidden in her sling in the unlikely event that the killer had made it past her guards and decided to knock.

The door slid open. No assassin, just Ahsoka. She gave Padmé a good looking over and frowned, evidentially displeased by what she saw. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she settled into the bedside chair.

Padmé grimaced and gingerly touched her throbbing arm. “I’ve been better,” she admitted, “but I’d be much worse if it wasn’t for you.”

Ahsoka squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. Despite her visions, she hadn’t prevented the shooting or captured the shooter. Padmé knew it bothered her. “The decoy will work,” she declared. “You’ll be safe here, and we’ll catch her soon.” 

“I know you will.” Padmé gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “I have the utmost faith in you, Ahsoka.” And a holdout blaster up her sleeve if anything went wrong.

“Thanks.” Ahsoka smiled thinly. “I sense that you’re still upset though.”

Padmé sighed and tossed her datapad aside. “What do you remember about your parents?”

Ahsoka blinked, clearly thrown by the seeming randomness of the question. “I-I remember the day Master Plo came to take me to my true family among the Jedi, but not much before that.”

“Your true family? Do you really feel that?” From what he’d said, Anakin certainly didn’t. Shmi was his true family. Padmé was his true family. The Jedi were half-vocation, a half obstacle to happiness.

“Of course,” Ahsoka said with a decisive nod. “They raised me, trained me, gave purpose. What else could they be?”

What else indeed? It all sounded rather cold to Padmé. Very utilitarian. Family should be a warm refuge, a place of love, welcoming hugs, and gentle teasing over supper. In her experience, _training_ had very little to do with it. “So, you remember nothing of your mother?”

“I remember—” Ahsoka closed her eyes as she strained to dredge something up. “I remember a song and—and a feeling,” she added almost wistfully. She shook her head. “I can’t describe it. Why do you ask?”

Padmé made a face. “It’s my mother.” She gestured to the datapad, still displaying her mother’s message. “She _insists_ that I come home like I’m some sort of child.” Padmé sighed. “I’ve been threatened before. She’s like this every time.”

“Ugh.” Ahsoka made a face of her own. “Master Skywalker does the same thing.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s so annoying.”

“Of course Anakin worries. He cares about you!” He loved her actually, like a daughter, or possibly a pesky younger sister, but Padmé knew better than to say so to a Jedi.

“Doesn’t your mother care about you?”

Pamdé flushed, glancing down at the datapad. From this angle, she couldn’t quite make out the dreaded _insist_ , but she could see the love that had been behind it.

“My mother loves me. In a way, I count on it, possibly even take it for granted,” she confessed quietly. Her parents’ house was her retreat when the galaxy became too much. Padmé wasn’t a senator there. There, she could turn off her com and pretend to be a normal girl again, instead of one with the weight of worlds on her shoulders. “It strengthens me.” She just preferred it to be on her own terms.

Ahsoka nodded slowly. “I guess it’s like that with Master Skywalker. It’s annoying when he gets all overprotective, but I feel more confident, knowing that I have his support.” She smiled mischievously. “So, are you going to com your mother back and tell her to stop treating you like a youngling?”

Padmé favored her with a wry smile. “Nothing makes you sound more like a child than complaining about being treated like one,” she said tartly. “Especially with your parents.” She sighed again. There was just something about her mother that brought them out. “I was mostly planning on ignoring it until after the conference.”

“Or, you could tell her how much you appreciate her love and support.”

Padmé chucked, then winced at the movement.  Ah, the wisdom of youth. “I suppose I could do that,” she conceded, reaching for her datapad. It shouldn’t be too difficult to express her appreciation for her mother’s concern while completely dismissing it. 

Ahsoka took it as a sign she was dismissed. She slipped quietly off her chair and headed for the door.

“Ahsoka.” Padmé caught her at the threshold. “About that love and support, I hope you know you can count on mine. Whenever you need it.” 

Assuming, of course, they both made it alive through the conference. Not that Padmé doubted they would. After all, Ahsoka had her utmost faith and Padmé had her blaster.


End file.
